His Majesty's Mistake - Page 57

Makin left her so she could bathe and change for dinner. With the door closed, Emmeline did a little twirl, her nerves almost getting the best of her.

So this was it. No more solo rooms. They were married. They’d share the master bedroom from now on.

She battled her panic by walking slowly around the bedroom, trying to get comfortable even as her gaze avoided the bed. It looked as though it was custom made, with a massive king-size frame, and it was draped with sheer white linens. She knew that it was in this bed that Makin would want to consummate the marriage tonight—

She broke off, shook her head, unable to finish the thought.

Take it one step at a time, she told herself. Bathe, dress, meet Makin for dinner, and then worry about the rest later.

It was a good plan, she thought thirty minutes later, but it wasn’t going to work.

She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t meet him for dinner and then go to bed with him as if it was the normal thing to do. She barely knew him. Had kissed him a few times, but that wasn’t a relationship.

She was still panicking when the maid knocked on the door and asked if Her Highness needed assistance. The maid, like the rest of the staff, spoke French.

“Yes,” Emmeline answered. “Can you please let Sheikh Al-Koury know I’m not feeling well and won’t be able to join him?”

“You won’t be joining him for dinner, Your Highness?”

“That’s correct. Please tell him I don’t feel well and I’m going to bed.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

HE didn’t even knock. He just barged through the bedroom and into the bath where she was still chin-deep in now-tepid water.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, his gaze sweeping from the top of her head, where her blond hair was piled high in a knot, to the tips of her toes peeping from the water at the foot of the tub. “What’s happened? Do you need to see a doctor?”

“No.”

“You’re not well?”

“No.”

“Are you cramping? Are you queasy?”

“No!” She swallowed guiltily and slid a little deeper into the hot water. “I’m just … tired.”

“Tired?”

“Yes. And I think I should just go to bed … you know … right now instead of after dinner.”

“So you’re not sick?”

“No. Not sick.”

He swore beneath his breath and pushed a hand through his black hair, ruffling it on end. “So you’re perfectly fine?”

“Other than feeling tired, yes.”

He straightened, jaw tightening as his hands fisted at his side. “Do you have any idea how scared I was for you? I thought you were in pain. I thought you were miscarrying—”

“I’m not. And nothing’s wrong. Okay? I was just.” She shook her head, looked away before glancing back at him. “Avoiding you.”

“That’s what this is all about?”

“Yes. I was nervous about consummating the marriage so I decided to stay in the bath and hide. Feel better?”

“No.”

Now she felt foolish, embarrassed and angry with herself. Why did she think she could be the hero in a story if she wasn’t even brave enough to face her husband? “I’m a coward, Makin. You know that. I’m shriveling to nothing in this cold bath because I’m hiding from you. Does that make you feel better?”

“No. But this will.” And he leaned over the tub and scooped Emmeline from the bath, carried her soaking wet into the bedroom where he dropped her on the bed.

Before she could scramble backward, Makin moved over her, catching her wrists in his hands, pressing them down onto the bed, and straddled her hips with his thighs. “Stop hiding,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Stop running away and start living.”

“Get off!” she choked, furious.

“I will when I feel like it,” he answered, his gaze slowly sweeping over her wet puckered breasts. “Because isn’t that what you do? You leave me outside, sitting by myself, waiting for my bride to join me when my bride in reality has no intention of joining me.”

“I wanted to.”

“If you wanted to, you would have come. Instead you send a maid to tell me you’re going to bed.”

“I was afraid!” she cried, trying desperately hard to twist free.

“Of what?”

“Of you. Of this.” She was panting from exertion and frustration.

“And what’s so scary about this?”

“All of it. Being naked. Being touched. Being known.”

“Get over it. Because I’m going to touch you and know you and make you feel good if it’s the last thing I do.”

Tags: Jane Porter Billionaire Romance
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